Crown Jewel
by BlackAngel873
Summary: India had always been England's "crown jewel". Little America had to learn this the hard way. Please read, I worked very hard on the piece! Colonial!America POV


**Before you go on, I just thought you should know the history behind the poem besides the American Revolution. The other day while I was reading my History text book looking for new fanfic ideas, I found out the out of the colonies, the British empire had always considered India to be thier favorite. So, that got me thinking what if America had known this, what would he have done? Thus Crown Jewel was born! I look forward to your reveiws if you'd be so kind as to leave me one. Enjoy!**

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**_Crown Jewel_**

Its been a while since your last visit,

I'm getting pretty lonely.

I know you're always working

and I know you can't find the time,

but I miss you.

I got your letter today,

the first one in awhile.

You say you miss me

and you really want to see me,

but you have business in India.

Thats okay, I understand!

Just come visit when you can.

Its been two years now,

and I've grown so much.

I can't wait for you to see me!

I hope I can make you proud!

Another day, another letter.

Alway letters but thats okay

as long as they're from you.

You're in India again, collecting spices.

You seem very fond of those.

Maybe if i had them

you'd come see me more.

Another year goes by,

and I have yet to see you.

I'm getting restless.

Why don't you come over?

Finally it came!

The letter saying you're coming!

I bouncein my seat, waiting for your ship.

There I see, I'm so happy!

I wait for you to shep off the vessel,

but you don't come. Instead, the captain says,

"I'm sorry, but Mr. Kirkland had business in India."

England, you promised!

Don't you want to see me?

As time goes by, I start to lose faith.

If not for your letters, I'd have thought you've forgotten me.

But of course, I still wait for you.

Every few months you send apology letters

and promise to visit,

but when you fail to show its always the same;

"Business in India."

I can't lose hope,

I just can't!

England, please come see me...

I got into a fight with the French

along with the Natives, they wanted our land.

But you needed it, we needed it.

More people are moving to the colonies,

I have to make room for them.

So, I did as you asked and fought hard to make you happy,

and what did I get in return?

England, why are you doing this?

Didn't I make you happy?

Didn't I make you proud?

Taxes, taxes, taxes;

seems like everyday there's a new tax

on imports, on paper, on tea.

You're making my people pay for a war you wanted.

You're not even letting me trade with other countries,

even though I could pay the debt faster.

My people are suffering.

How tight must my collar be?

Bet India isn't burdened with this.

Your letters dwindle to almost none,

I'll be lucky to recieve one every year now.

They use to tell me kind words, that you care for me,

but now they only carry demands.

I'm trying my best to saticfy,

but despite all my efforts

you only brush me aside.

England, can't you see that I'm trying?

Can't you how hard I work?

Can't you come see me?

These new laws are ridiculous.

Why can't I settle on the land I fought a war over?

Why can't I trade with other countries?

Why must I give you all my best resources?

My people are getting angry, I'm getting angry.

I hear them speak for independence and war, but I don't feel ready for it.

Maybe if I just wait it out.

How long must I endure?

Small rebellions have started here and there,

and they seem to get a reaction out of you.

You send more letters.

Though all they do is scold me,

they're still something.

If I have to rebel to get your attention,

then so be it.

Hope you'er happy, England,

that I have to resort to this.

After my friends and I had a tea party,

you finally _finally came._

I was so happy that I wanted to just run up and hug you,

but due to the circumstances, I must refrain.

The moment you stepped off the ship,

you grab my arm ,and throw me in the carridge.

The ride is silent for you refuse to look at me.

How can one be so happy and yet so sad?

When we get home, you unleash your anger.

You shout how stupid I am,

how much of a child I am.

You won't stop cursing at me.

Tears well in my eyes and fall down my face,

but you don't stop.

You don't seem to care.

I'm so sorry!

Please don't hate me!

Then you say it.

The words that pain me the most.

"Why can't you behave like the others?

Why can't you be more like India?"

I snap.

India, India, India!

It's always about India!

India has the best spices!

India is the most obedient!

You only seem to care about India!

You're always there, always takling about him!

But what about me?

Late at night while you sleep,

I pack my bags and slip though the window.

I'm going to continue to rebel, going to continue to fight.

This is not about your attention anymore.

If you don't me then I don't need you.

Not that you'll miss me,

you still have _India._

Tonight I delcare indepedence,

and I swear to you this;

the next time we see each other

will be on the battlefield.


End file.
